


Time-Travelling Blondes With Robots (And Smart Guys In Suits)

by blua and oro (vehlr)



Series: Blue & Gold Offcuts [1]
Category: Blue Beetle (Comic), Booster Gold (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, XY-XX Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 16:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/blua%20and%20oro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had one rule in this company: nobody took a nosedive from his building before he did. Ted Kord, CEO of Kord Industries, meets the girl on the roof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Mister Kord? There’s someone on the roof.”

 _Damnit_. He beats a hasty retreat from the board meeting to find the stairs to the roof. He had one rule in this company: nobody took a nosedive from his building before he did. It was drilled into people on day one – not that anyone had ever wanted to, thankfully. The company had a great counselling team that was rarely needed for anything too serious, something that made him feel quite proud.

He pushes open the roof access to reveal blinding sunshine and a bright blue sky. _Should have picked up some shades_ , he thinks with a wince, waiting for his eyes to adjust as he scans the ledge.

A blonde girl sits on the edge of the roof, legs swinging over the side. She looks young, too young to be anyone above administrator level – but as he steps forward to approach her, she turns and pulls a face.

“I’m not gonna _jump_ , idiot.”

Which settles that matter. He reaches up to straighten his tie, before deciding otherwise and tugging it off. She is not a familiar face, but that was no surprise. He struggled to keep up with the new staff unless they were in R&D or a board member – and sometimes even then the names blurred together.

“Good. That’s… that’s good.” He crouches next to her, tilting his head in curiosity. “So what are you doing up here, then? I have a right to know – it’s, uh… it’s my building.”

“I didn’t choose it for any real reason. It was just… high. Away from all the cars.”

“Right.”

“This world sucks,” she murmurs, and for the first time he looks at her closely. She looks human, but the tight blue and gold costume is far too out of place to be from the here and now. The star emblazoned on her chest is obscured by a gold metal object – she clings to it like a child with a favourite toy, though it looks sleek and expensive. He wonders what technology it hides. He considers the puzzle pieces for a moment.

“I guess this is all pretty primitive to you,” he says finally, sitting next to her. “You guys don’t use petrol, right?”

She smiles slightly, and he has his answer. “Pretty smart for a guy in a suit.”

“Ever heard of Kord Industries? Cos you’re sitting next to the guy who put the Kord in the name. It’s kind of my job to be smart.”

“In my experience, men in suits who run big companies are never the smart ones.”

“Well, I don’t normally wear a suit, but I had a meeting today and my secretary told me to look presentable.” He pulls a face at the idea and she laughs, which is a small but important victory. “I guess she’s the smart one.”

“She sounds like it.”

They settle into a companionable silence for a while. He can see the appeal of the location – the hustle and bustle is far below and there is a certain peace to the hum of the air conditioning unit behind them. He finally asks her “so… how far?”

“Pretty far.” She lets out a deep breath. “25th Century. Cars are in museums. A lot less noisy and smoky.”

“Sounds pretty great.”

“Not _that_ great.” She shuffles slightly, shoulder bumping against his. “Or I wouldn’t have come to this backwards time.”

“No offence taken,” he drawls quietly.

“I just wanted to be a hero.” There is a hitch in her voice, and he cannot help but watch as the emotions play across her face, brow struggling to remain uncrumpled. “I wanted to meet Superman, and I thought… well, I thought I could be like Lois Lane, but… I’m pretty much a nobody now.” She shrugs, looking down at the metal box in her arms. “Skeets was all I really had going for me.”

“Skeets?”

“My… friend. He’s a robot. There was an… accident, on the way through time, and now he doesn’t… he’s not working anymore.” Her voice is quiet again. “I shouldn’t have come. It was too much for him.”

“May I?” He holds a hand out, and she narrows her eyes. “I’m a tech guy, and I couldn’t make it any worse. Trust me?” She hesitates for a long moment before handing over the football-shaped robot, curling her arms around her knees.

“He’s future-tech. You won’t even -”

“Hey!” His eyes light up at the imprint on the side. “That’s one of our logos! He’s a Kord-bot!”

“- nevermind.” She smiles slightly. “Kord-bot? Really? You’re a dork. He’s a security droid – or was, until I liberated him.”

“Liberated, eh?” He rummages in his pocket for his pen-knife, balancing the robot carefully in his free hand as he examines the seams. “Do you make a habit of liberating hard-working robots, or was he special?”

“He’s very special. We were going to be a team, me and him. His memory banks reach all the way back to your time, so I was going to use that information to fight crime and make sound investments. And marry Superman, of course.”

“And now you can’t do… oh, at least one of those things.”

“I can’t do _any_ of those things!”

“Not strictly – _ow, son of a_ – true.” He pries open the chassis, whistling softly at the sight, before continuing. “You _could_ still marry Superman, though your chances are probably just as slim as before. Have you seen the way he looks at Lois in the photos? They’re a perfect match. You _can_ still fight crime – you won’t be ahead of the curve, of course. It might be a little less fun going in blind, but our other heroes do just fine. Ooh, what’s this…?”

“I don’t have any great powers, though. I stole a fancy suit and a flight ring and a robot and that’s pretty much all I amount to, period. A petty thief who wanted to be… something more.”

Any other time, and Ted would have had a speech ready about what people were worth. But he is far too busy to correct her. His jaw drops. “I recognise parts of this design!”

“Bully for you.”

“Yes, bully for me! I designed them!” He looks up at her, grinning widely. “This means that even in 400 years time, people will be using things I made. That’s… that’s awesome.”

She tilts her head, thinking about the concept, before returning the smile. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty awesome.”

“Yeah… oh, and it also means I can do this.” Poking a few loose wires and resistors, he snaps the chassis shut as the hum of the processor starts up.

She blinks. “Skeets?”

The familiar sound of a boot-up whirs and clicks, and the robot responds. “Affirmative. All systems operational.”

“You did it. You really, really did it!” She lunges forward, arms pulling him into a tight hug – squishing the small robot into his ribcage, a move that both man and machine object to loudly. Skeets zips out to hover above their heads, and he finds himself with a lap full of girl and eyes full of his company’s somewhat-distant but evidently bright future. He smiles, holding her gently as she laughs. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

“You are more than welcome, seriously. I don’t often get to look into the future, but this is probably one of the greatest moments of my life. My stuff lives on.”

“Skeets, say thanks to your creator’s ancestor,” she reprimands, pulling back to look up at the droid. “He’s pretty smart for a guy in a suit.”

“Scanning… Theodore ‘Ted’ Kord. Owner of Kord Industries. Creator of creators.” The robot’s voice, though tinny, is tinged with awe – something quite new for Ted.

He grins. “That’s me.”

“Many thanks, Master!”

“Master? Hey, don’t forget who liberated you, buddy!” the girl huffs, though she is still smiling like it is Christmas.

“Miss Carter, ‘liberated’ is not the word I would use.”

“I like this guy,” laughs Ted, and she joins him, reaching up to lightly stroke her robot friend before hauling herself to her feet.

“Skeets, status?”

“Seventeen minutes until an attempted robbery. Six point four kilometres from our current location.”

“Perfect.”

He hesitates for a moment before swallowing his awkwardness. “Look, I know your grand plan is to save the world before it knows it needs saving, but if you ever need a… I don’t know, a _boring_ life, with money and friends and drinking in bars, I’m sure I can find you a job here to get you started. And if you ever need a hand… well, I’m not great with the whole fighting thing, but I’m good with wires and information, and I like projects that prevent me from going to board meetings.” He fumbles in his pockets for a business card and she considers him.

“Why did you come up here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m nobody and yet you came up here to… to stop me from jumping, right?”

“Is that weird?”

“Why would you drop everything for a stranger?”

“I… I guess because I _can_.” He smiles as he stands, dusting off his trousers. “Because I’ve been in dark places and come out the other side, and everyone should know that there will always be a tomorrow. I’ve been something of a disappointment to my family for a while, and I lost my friend and mentor in a ridiculously noble fashion that made me evaluate exactly what I was bringing to the table, and I didn’t like what I saw in myself. I was worthless, for all intents and purposes, and I… I came up here one day to stop feeling that. But I looked over the edge and… I knew Dan would never have forgiven me. So I decided, there and then, that nobody that worked for me would get to decide they were worthless. Nobody.” He turns to face her, shrugging. “And today, that includes time-travelling blondes with robots.”

She smiles at that, a softer expression that tugs at something in his chest. She offers her hand and he shakes it firmly. “Thanks, Ted Kord. You’re not so bad at this superhero thing yourself.”

“Coming from you, that means a lot. Or rather, it will do once you and your little friend start saving the world. Got a name picked out?”

“Yep. Get ready, world, here comes Booster Gold! But you can call me Michelle. And I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to jump off your building.” With a wink, she falls backwards off the ledge and he yells, scrambling to reach – but no, she can apparently fly and she is laughing at him as she rightens herself in midair. He cannot help but think he will see a lot of her on the news.

“Hey, Booster? If you, ah… if you ever get bored? Three down, fourth from the left. Just… tell her you have an appointment.” She grins, waving as she jets off into the skyline, faithful robot in hot pursuit. He grins at the idea of her barrelling into his secretary’s office. _Serves her right for the suits_ , he thinks, heading towards the roof exit.


	2. Chapter 2

He is completely surprised when he comes into the office two months later to find his secretary howling up a storm as a small golden robot tries to apologise for the intrusion. He might have forgotten all about the girl from the future, apart from the fact that she had been all over the news since her jump from the roof. Janine throws him a furious look as she mutters something about going for lunch early, and he tries not to laugh as she stalks out. Poor woman.

In his office, the girl from the roof lounges in his chair, legs resting on his desk idly as she flicks through the latest issue of the company brochure. He leans against the door-frame, clearing his throat.

She looks up at him, smiling brightly. “Mister Kord, CEO.”

“Booster Gold, superhero.”

She laughs. “You said I could drop by anytime.”

“I also told you to call me Ted,” he points out with a chuckle. “But in all honesty, I didn't think you would. You've been busy.”

She shrugs, eyes turning to the wide-screen television that dominated his wall. The latest newsreel turns from finances to heroics as if on cue, her grinning face blowing kisses to the camera. “I like to put on a show, what can I say?”

“I noticed.”

“Yeah?” She brightens at his words, swinging her legs off the table.

“Can't help but notice, you're wearing a gold crop-top,” he points out. “It stands out much more than the old red 'S' of Superman does.” She laughs at that, clear and loud, and he counts that as a victory, coming in and closing the door behind him. “So. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She shrugs again, gaze dropping to the floor. “Do I need a reason?”

“I don't know. Do you?”

“I'm a superhero. Call it... a random citizen awareness check.”

“Or a publicity stunt.” She looks up at him through thick eyelashes, and he can tell he has hit a sore spot. “I mean, I'm well-placed, good connections. Should I expect the press at the door?”

“Hey!”

“After everything I've seen, is it out of line to assume you'd have another motive?” he presses, and she hauls herself out of his chair, storming up to him and jabbing his chest hard.

“Hey, listen up! _You_ were the one who told me to come to you for a slice of normal, okay? And now _you're_ the one going on about crop-tops and motives and – and all that!”

“Slice of normal. And that's all.”

“Well, yeah! It's not like...” She shakes her head. “Whatever.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Not like what?”

“Nothing. Forget it. I've got things to do. Skeets, c'mon.” And she adjusts her glasses, heading to the window. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“Oh, just stop,” he groans, tugging off his tie. “Come and have a drink with me. You _do_ drink, right?”

“What?”

“A drink. That's what friends do, when they have an argument. They have a drink and stop caring about what they argued over.”

She hesitates. “Friends.”

He tilts his head, watching her. “Yeah. We're friends.” It is not a question – he can see already that she needs someone to relax with, a space where she could be the girl and not the hero. He smiles gently. “So let's get a drink. Or we could head back to mine, if you'd rather not get noticed.”

“Are you this smooth with all the ladies, Kord?” she asks dryly, folding her arms across her chest.

“Ask my secretary,” he responds, opening the door. “Come on.”

 

They end up in a quiet booth of a bar, and she does not argue when he insists they order food. All the while, he studies her – and finds a different side to the brash hero who dominated the news every day. Here he finds the girl out of time, desperate to make a connection rather than a quick buck, and he wonders how much courage it took for her to come back to find him.

“So,” he prompts, passing her a beer, “I'm sorry for being an ass.”

She shakes her head. “S'alright. I guess I deserved that.”

“Not really. I mean, the Michelle I met on the roof was pretty cool. Not like that Booster Gold.” He winks, and she smiles finally. “What's up with that?”

“What?”

“The whole...” here, he gestures with his drink, “flying around, smartass routine. Like you want to prove you're the only hero worth a damn.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to establish the brand?” She takes a swig. “It's all about the brand, how appealing I am to the public.”

“You don't have to force it, though.”

“But that's what works. Constant exposure, constant reminders, then one day they wake up and they can't live without the cereal or the hair products or the action figures.”

“So you're a drug.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “I could be.”

“No, that's... no, I mean, you want people to be dependant on you. Like with actual drugs. You're not selling a brand, you're selling out.” He frowns. “Why?”

“Why do you sell hundreds of thousands of products every quarter? Same reason. It's all about the money.”

“It's not about the money.”

She snorts. “Yes it is, Kord, don't lie. You've got your fancy office, your expensive suit, there's no shame in wanting a good life for yourself. But be honest about it.”

“It's not about the money,” he insists, “that's just... I don't know, a nice side-effect. Besides, I donate a lot to charity -”

“Oh, sure, makes you look good for the shareholders, right?”

He narrows his eyes. “And you're such an expert on running a business,” he drawls.

“Nope.” She leans back. “But I'm learning fast. Goldstar Incorporated isn't going to run itself, and the more decisions I control, the less people I have to pay to make decisions for me.”

“And more money for you,” he concludes. “But why? What are you gonna do with it all? I mean, it's not like you can take it all back to the future with you.”

“I'm not going back. Why would I?”

He frowns at that. “Why _wouldn't_ you?”

She shuffles in her seat, ducking her eyes. “It's not that great,” she admits after a long silence. “You... you think about the far-off future and _you_ think it's all space-cars and equality and everyone's happy and all that. But you're wrong. It's not... well, it's not _that_ good.”

He reaches over the table to squeeze her arm. “Can't be that bad, if you came from there,” he offers with a smile, and she laughs.

“Shut up. The money's just... I never really had any before. It must look a bit silly to someone like you.”

“Like me? Oh, you think I was always this well-off?”

“You were,” she points out. “I looked you up, Kord. Ridiculous IQ, top athlete, modestly wealthy background... gifted isn't even the word.”

“I never touched that money.” He bristles, though she does not notice.

“You did, though. Fancy education had to come from somewhere. Look, I'm not getting on your case,” she adds, shrugging, “but some of us didn't have all that going for us as kids. Makes you look at money differently is all.”

He pulls back. “Right. Okay.”

She frowns. “What?”

“You're wrong. Again.” He hesitates. Was it worth going into it all? His uncle's influence, Dan's kindness, the scholarship... sure, it had all come from his inheritance, but what had he lost in exchange? How could she possibly understand? “Not important, though. Tell me about Goldstar.”

She opens her mouth to respond, before stopping and rubbing her face. “No. Wait, hang on.” She groans. “Okay, no, tell me what was wrong.”

“It's not important.”

“No, it is. It is important. We're friends, so this is important.”

“No, look, we'll go over it next time -”

“No!” she snaps, grabbing his hand. “Tell me! You... you _get_ people. You get me. And I don't _have_ that, okay? I don't connect the way you do, and that's why I'm... I'm on my own, and you're my only friend. So...” She swallows. “Help me. I want to understand.”

He is struck by the sadness in her tone. “Michelle, it's not – it's not your fault.” Shuffling around the booth, he squeezes her hand. “You don't know. I wouldn't expect anyone to know.”

“But...” She sighs, resting her head on her free arm. “You knew me, straight away.”

“I didn't. I saw a pretty girl who looked like she was going to jump off my roof, and I wanted to help her. But I'm not sat on a roof, am I? It's... I don't know, internalised. I've always done it. Kept it all hidden away.”

She watches him. “Why?”

“My, ah... my uncle wasn't exactly the touchy-feely type.”

“What about your parents?”

“They passed away when I was young. A car accident. At the time, there were a lot of questions about it all – my father was a brilliant inventor, and my uncle often said that people would do dark things to find out his secrets...”

It is a long time before Ted stops talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooops I did a continuing thing. I REGRET NOTHING.


	3. Chapter 3

The week before the Christmas party starts off surprisingly strange for Ted.

“Why is there a locked door in my own building?”

“Because _you_ told me to lock it and slide the key underneath it,” his secretary replies, clearly less than impressed with his tone. But he is too confused and annoyed to apologise, narrowing his eyes as he crouches by the lock.

“Must be a drill somewhere,” he thinks aloud.

“What’s up with the door?”

He does not even glance up at his favourite lunch date. “Hey, Booster. This door is locked, and I don’t know why.”

She rests a hand on his shoulder as she bends to his level, smile wry. “Is it a mystery that can wait until after I’m gone? Because I’m kind of on a tight schedule this afternoon, buddy.”

He pats her hand lightly. “Well, no time like the present. What’s the rush?”

“I have a meeting with this group. No big deal, you know? Just some guys called, oh, what’s their name… THE JUSTICE LEAGUE!”

“Holy shit!” He almost head-butts the door straightening up to face her. “Seriously?”

She twirls on the spot. “I can’t believe it, they really want me to come in for a meeting! I mean, what if they ask me to join there and then? What do I even say?”

“Yes, obviously. Come on, talking and eating.” He leads her to the elevator. “Did they say what they wanted?”

“No, just that my presence was requested. Requested! By Superman, of all people!”

“Wow. Big leagues time, huh?” He grins. “So I guess you’ll be too busy for me soon.”

She stops, frowning. “What?”

“Well, you’ll be busy schmoozing with Supes and brunching with the Bat…”

“No! I mean, yeah, sure, they’re gonna love me and I’ll be the life and soul of the party, but… I’ll always make time for you, Ted.” She rests a hand on his arm. “Always. You’re my friend.”

He is touched by her sincerity. “Good. Because seriously, I want gossip. What they eat, what they listen to…”

“Are you a fanboy now?” she teases.

“I’m a businessman. Preferences make a pretty buck.”

“Ah, so you want me to sell them out…”

“Maybe just a little.” He grins as he presses the button down. “But you wouldn’t like it if I became destitute due to your inaction. We’d go out for lunch a lot less.”

***

A phone call cuts their fun short, and she flies him back to the building – he all but squeals when she lifts off, asking questions about the suit all the way. On the seventeenth floor, someone opens a window for her.

“Boss! We weren’t expecting -”

“Me neither,” he laughs, clamouring down from the windowframe. “Come on, Booster, let me show you what we do.”

She follows him through the lab. “I know what you end up doing…”

“Yes, but this is the start. Is this the prototype?”

“Yes boss.”

“Hey, Ron?”

A bespectacled man squints at Ted. “Yes, boss?”

“Take the safeguards down a notch, see how it affects the output. But don’t change the compressor level.”

“Are you sure?”

Ted grins. “It’s just one notch. See how it runs.” He beckons for Booster to follow him back behind the shield. “Sorry. Hazard of the job.”

“Is that Ron Pilchims?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“Old Ron? Yeah. How do you know him?”

“If it isn’t Pilchims, it isn’t right – and that’s the Ron guarantee!” She giggles, and he puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Hate to break it to you, but you’ve finally lost it.”

“No, it’s… oh, it’s a future thing.” She quiets as the technicians join them, Ron fiddling with the controls once more before activating the mysterious machine. “So what does this one do?”

“On paper, this will be a battery – a very powerful electromagnetic power source, that we can miniaturise once we work out the compression issues.” He lowers his voice. “And we do, you know. It looks very similar to Skeets’ battery. Somewhere, we get it right and make it even better.”

“Alright, you don’t get to look into your future anymore,” she warns, though her smile is warm and wide.

“Spoilsport.”

“Test run in five… two, one…”

***

It takes three hours to iron out the kinks. Booster vanishes fairly quickly, and Ted only belatedly remembers her meeting, but before the afternoon is over she returns to sit at the window-sill, looking strangely pensive. As Ted fiddles with the programming, he sends Ron over with coffee. It seems to cheer her up - and, oddly, Ron too. Ted resists the urge to be jealous.

After a final successful test, he beckons her over to examine the progress.

"So the problem was -"

"Audience, Ted. I’m not it."

"Let me have this moment! I’m sealing the future of Kord Industries." He lowers his voice as the technicians around him raise eyebrows. "Come on, I know this is the start. Let me brag a little."

She rolls her eyes, but waves for him to continue, the smile widening.

"Okay, so the problem was - wait, how did your meeting go?"

"I thought you were bragging."

"Changed my mind. Are you part of the League now?"

She pulls a face. “Not exactly. It was an ambush of responsibility and maturity. They’re “concerned” -” here she quotes the words with her fingers, “about my “presence”, given all the foreknowledge I might have. Which is ridiculous, but whatever. If I can prove I’m not a screw-up, I might have a shot.”

"Well, that’s a little harsh, but I get it. They’re worried you might change something important."

"But I wouldn’t!"

"I know that. But _they_ don’t, yet. They don’t know you properly.”

"They could have asked…"

He gives her a look. “Yes, because ‘just asking’ is an excellent way to gauge someone’s character,” he drawls. “Seriously, don’t take this as a negative, Boost. They’ve noticed you, and now they’re seeing what you’re made of. That’s good!”

"It doesn’t feel good," she says petulantly, but he can see her shoulders straighten up a little at his words.

"Nothing good ever comes easy."

"That is a ridiculous cliche."

"Yeah, I feel older for having just uttered the words. Come on, let’s grab a beer and I’ll explain my new doohickey."

He does not feel Ron’s gaze on them as they leave.


	4. Chapter 4

The Christmas party is a boozy affair, and Ted only manages to escape the small talk when his phone rings. He soon wishes that he hadn't.

Ron's voice does not sound particularly sorry. "I'm sorry, Ted, I really am. But I see now - I can do more, I can do better. And I have everything I need right here."

"You're taking the research."

"Of course I am. It's my brainchild."

"Damnit, Ron, you can't build your life on corporate espionage -"

"Consider my resignation served." The line cuts out, and Ted stares at the phone for a long time.

Booster peers into the office. "Hey, you okay?"

He swallows hard. "No."

"What's up, buddy?" She crosses over to the desk, leaning against it. "Someone spike the punch?"

"Ron... he's leaving the company. Taking everything he can."

"What?"

"He's starting up his own company. Pilchims Solutions."

"No. Oh, no no no." She pushes back, all levity gone. "Oh, god, Ted, it's my fault. I created your biggest rival too early."

"What?" He looks up at her, confused.

"In... in the future, Kord Industries is king, but Pilchims is still a household name. But he's not... shit, he's not supposed to start up for a few years, is he?" Skeets beeps confirmation and she crumples. "Shit! This is my fault! I shouldn't have -"

"It's okay, I'm not..." He stops himself. "Okay, I _am_ worried. This is colossally bad timing for us. But it was always going to happen sooner or later, so -"

"Not with _your_ designs! This is the Golden Age of technology, and he's not supposed to - he's _nobody_ right now, and he can't just _take_ -" Fists balled up, she roars, and Ted reels back.

"Uh..."

She runs her hands through her hair, breathing deep. "Sorry, I just... I shouldn't have come back here, all I do is make mistakes. This is exactly the kind of thing Superman was talking about, wasn't it?" She collapses into a chair, head in her hands. "God. I can't even have a _conversation_ without screwing everyone over."

"It's not your fault. You didn't know - nobody knew how motivated he would be." He sighs.“No, no, it's... it's my fault. I shouldn't have... god, I shouldn't have done a lot of things, really. I just don't know... I've got to go and make a speech, and I – I don't know what to say.” He closes his eyes, hands covering his face. “What do I tell them all? They're expecting good news. God, I _should_ have nailed everything down with patents, but I wanted to push for open-source information..."

"So now he can just walk away with everything?"

"Every project we have inhouse right now."

"How many is that?"

"Oh god... seventeen in testing, twelve in development for clients, six concepts up for next month's workshops, and about six hundred ideas? If not more. Everything we might have, everything we vaguely thought about..."

She runs a hand through her hair, considering this for a long moment. "Ted," she says finally, "do you trust me?"

"Yes." He is surprised by his own answer. "I mean - yes, but why?"

She smiles, the first real smile of the conversation. "Really?"

"Well, yeah. You're my best friend."

"Okay, then... trust me." And with that cryptic statement, she leaps up from the chair and runs out of the office, leaving Ted bewildered.

"Wait, why? WHY?"

"In my experience, Master, it is best to leave asking why until the deed is done," advises Skeets, floating through the doorway. Ted follows helplessly.

His secretary is the last person he expects to see behind the desk, but despite the glass in her hand she seems predictably annoyed at being there. "You need to sign this," Janine says, holding out yet another innocuous form.

"At this time?"

"Yeah, that's what I said," she drawls, as he scribbles a signature and she pulls it back to fold it up. Booster appears from the cupboard, snatching it out of her hands.

"Thank you! I promise I will make this up to you."

"You better, Buster." And despite Booster grumbling that it was _Booster, not Buster_ , she sashays out to rejoin the party.

"What did I just sign?" Ted asks cautiously.

She turns back to him, hands resting on his shoulders as she looks him in the eyes. "Ted, trust me. Close your eyes and count to ten, and then go downstairs to room 16-24."

He starts to question her, but she shushes his and covers his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he obliges her, closing his eyes and counting slowly.

As he hits ten, he risks a peek - and she is nowhere to be seen. There is, however, a magnificent display of flowers on his secretary's desk. He wonders how exactly she manages these tricks, but decides to solve one mystery at a time.

 

***

 

He pushes open the door, almost reeling at the closeness of the air.

“Jesus, what happened in here?”

“Ted?”

He looks up, and between the stacks of paper and endless empty cans to find a very tired-looking Michelle Carter, wide-eyed and mussed hair and ink somehow on her forehead.

“Booster? What are you doing?”

“I've been... patents...” She clears her throat, patting a stack of documents next to the tiny laptop she had commandeered. “I filed them all. Pilchims can't use anything against you now. Or at least, anything you have inhouse.”

“What? _How?_ How did you possibly -”

“Time travel, of course. I've been here all week.” She chuckles weakly. “Well, mostly. I snuck out at night for some air, and I'm pretty sure the local pizza-house was entirely funded by me...”

“You... did all this?” He steps carefully through the room, narrowing his eyes to read the screen. “Jesus, Booster, you locked yourself in a room for a week?”

“I wanted to fix it. I mean, it was my fault, if I hadn't talked to Pilchims he would never have had the idea. And I didn't want to... to let you down.”

He stares at her for a long moment, before swooping down and kissing her hard on the mouth. It lasts only briefly as he realises his action, and he pulls back, surprising himself.

“I, ah, I'm -”

She stares at him before pulling him back into another kiss, much softer this time as her hand curls around his neck. He responds in kind, arms wrapping around her waist and hoisting her out of the chair. She squeals, breaking the kiss with a laugh. “So you don't hate me?”

“Booster, you saved my company. You saved everyone's jobs. I can't even _begin_ to thank you.” He hugs her tightly. “Hell, you saved Christmas!”

“I'm secretly Santa Claus,” she mumbles into his shoulder, and he shakes with laughter.

“Does that mean I get to sit on your lap?”

She cringes. “Oh my god, Ted, is that _really_ your best line?”

“I'm only a little sorry,” he admits, pulling back and framing her face with his hands. “And forever glad that you didn't push me away for it. Can, uh... can we talk about this – this kissing and hugging thing?”

She smiles, shaking her head. “They're waiting for you in the hall. Big speech time, remember?”

“Oh.”

“But _after_...”

“Yes. Absolutely. Definitely talking after.” He steals a lingering kiss, unable to stop himself from grinning as he takes a step back. “Wait for me.”

She shrugs, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Where else would I be?”

 

***

 

The speech is an unbelievable success. He has never had a standing ovation in his life, but his ears now ring from the wall of applause. Of course, all of this is fantastic, and in the morning he will deal with the influx of new shareholder interests, but right now a blonde is waiting for him and he has never been more glad to escape the throngs and -

Room 16-24 is empty. Completely empty – not even a scrap of paper to suggest that anything had ever been in here. He stands in the doorway, somewhat bereft. _Wait for me._

A light cough behind him startles him.

“Hey.”

“I – uh. _Wow._ ” As he turns to face her, he drinks in the sight – Michelle had finally managed to shed her costume for once, wearing a tight black number that stops near the top of her fantastically-long legs. Her height is accentuated by heels, though her head is uncharacteristically ducked. Without the usual goggles, he can finally appreciate just how bright her eyes are, face framed by soft straight locks and finished off with a nervous smile.

“I, um... I filed everything away. And after Janine stopped glaring at me for putting everything away wrong, I figured I should probably grab a shower, and I'm not really supposed to live in my costume for _that_ long, so I'm... sort of breaking all those time-travel rules again, because I'm technically in two places at once, but... do you maybe want to go grab a drink?”

He blinks. “You're _nervous_. Why are you nervous? You look like... damn, Booster, you look like a _goddess_. You could literally ask me to jump off a cliff and right now I would do that.” He tilts his head, smiling gently. “Though, you know, I'd prefer not to.”

She giggles, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Thought I should put the effort in. I'm... really sorry. For all the problems I caused you.”

“After what you've done for me? Don't even think about apologising again. I, ah... I have champagne, in my office. I was actually going to show you something.” He holds out his hand. “Come with me?”


	5. Chapter 5

He tosses the cork in one hand. “So, uh… I owe you basically everything.”

She sits on the edge of the desk, cradling her glass. “Not really.”

“You saved my job – everyone’s job.”

“I corrected my own mistake, Ted. It’s not – don’t build it up to be a grand thing, please.”

He catches the cork, placing it on his desk. “You don’t see it, do you? You… you took a huge risk, affecting your own timeline that way. And even if you did it because you felt like you needed to correct something… you still helped hundreds of people. And that,” he adds, “really is a grand thing.”

She shakes her head, standing up. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Well, I’m no Big Blue. My logic is probably not that heroic.”

“I… I like that you’re not Superman.” She shrugs. “It’s nice, having normal in my life.”

“Only one problem with that,” he points out.

“What?”

And he leans forward, pulling her in close enough that her lips are inches away. Her eyes widen, one hand reaching up to steady herself against his chest. “I, ah… I don’t really do normal.”

The floor beneath them moves as the ceiling opens up to reveal exactly what he means – a roof-top helipad, housing an interesting airship with a strange insectoid design.

She cannot take her eyes off it. “What is that?”

“That’s the Bug. I, ah… I know the design is a little… unorthodox, but I had this… dream… which sounds a bit weird when I say it out loud,” he finishes lamely.

“It’s amazing,” she breathes. “You built that?”

“My pet project.” He grins, reaching to brush her hair from her eyes. “This is what I wanted to show you. I, uh… I haven’t unveiled it yet. Not really a commercial thing. Closer look?”

She leans into his touch, nodding. “You’re pretty amazing for a guy in a suit, you know.”

He shrugs. “I do okay.” He leads her up the steps, opening the loading doors. “I mean, the invisibility sensors don’t work yet, it won’t go that far up into the atmosphere until I get the right materials for the hull, and the -”

“Ted, shut up.” She escapes his grip to stare out of the window. “You made this with your own hands, and it can fly. That’s _amazing_.”

He chuckles. “I had a little help…”

“Take a compliment, Kord.”

“Alright, alright, I know when I’m beat.” He offers her a seat. “So. Want a ride?”

“You do remember that I can fly without a ship, right?”

“Oh, honey,” he drawls, “that isn’t flying. Trust me.”

She laughs. “Then show me where I’m going wrong, oh wise one.”

“Fasten your seatbelt, I don’t have insurance for this yet,” he jokes as he begins his start-up sequence.

“Yes, Captain Ted, sir.” She sits on the edge of her seat nonetheless, eyes fixed on the world outside. One hand on the throttle, he gently takes the Bug up into the air, circling the building with practiced ease before flying higher – over the city lights to reveal the stars above.

“Ted, it’s… it’s _beautiful_.”

Relaxing his grip on the controls, he presses another button, watching as the roof to reveal even more of the night-time scene above them. “Isn’t it? It’s easy to forget that there’s a whole universe out there, sometimes. Light pollution’s really bad, you can barely see the moon some nights -”

“Hey, you’ve got a USB plug in here, right?”

He turns to face her. “Really? You’re asking me this now?”

She smiles, passing him a data stick. “Please?” He places it in the slot, tilting his head as music fills the cockpit.

“Sinatra?”

She stands up, holding out her hand. “Dance with me.”

“I… I don’t really -”

“Oh, come on. Just once, humour me.”

He rolls his eyes, but stands up and takes her hand. Free hand on her waist, pulling her in close, they begin to sway to the soft crooning of Blue Eyes. “Never had you down for a fan of the Rat Pack,” he murmurs, and she smiles.

“Booster Gold is all about the future, but… I like the past. I came here, after all.” She shrugs lightly. “I loved history in college. There was a lot more emotion, more passion than my time.”

“You paint such a bleak picture of the future.”

“Says the archaeology student,” she teases. “You once lived in the past too.”

He chuckles. “Not quite as… literally as you.”

“True.”

“Were you running away?”

She rests her head against his shoulder. “We’re supposed to be dancing.”

“Sorry, I just -”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ve never seen you out of costume before.” He takes a step back, spinning her around slowly. “Why is that? Because you look stunning, you know.”

She laughs as he pulls her back in close. “I don’t really… remember how to be anyone else, these days. So I stay in the costume. Easier that way, to just play the part.”

“For someone who only wants to dance, you’re awfully chatty.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s… new. Not a bad thing.” He smiles. “Tell me something else.”

She shrugs. “Like what?”

“Anything. Favourite colour?”

“Blue.”

“Mine too. Maybe you should have gone with Blue-ster Gold.”

She pulls a face. “No, really… no. My name’s… sort of an accident. I wanted to be Goldstar, but… my nickname in college was Booster.”

“And you got nervous when they asked and you’ve never corrected them?”

“Pretty much. But I -” here, she ducks her eyes again, “I don’t mind it, really. Just another mistake.”

He lets go of her hand to tilt her chin up. “Hey. No mistake, Booster. You’ve built a life around it, and you’re doing better than okay. I’d call that a win.”

“Michelle,” she corrects, “just call me Michelle.”

He smiles. “How about just ‘Chelle?”

Her eyes light up. “Quite like that,” she whispers.

“Quite like _you_.” He strokes her cheek. “About that…”

“I like you too.”

“And I know you’re probably going to say that you can’t do this, that your enemies will use me against you or something ridiculously noble, but I don’t… I don’t care.”

She grins. “Me neither.”

“Oh, so if I was held ransom you wouldn’t mind? Charming!”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do,” he teases. “Explain it to me in small words?”

She stops swaying, placing her hands on his chest. “I want… this. Us.” She smiles. “You and the stars, and the sun that comes after. Okay?”

He stares at her, spellbound. “Wow. That was… beautiful.”

“What about you?”

“Yes. I mean, yes, I want this too. You. Definitely… _definitely_ you.” His arms wrap around her waist. “Glad we had this talk, ‘Chelle.”

“Enough talking?” She reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck, lips a breath away from his.

“God, yes.” He kisses her, soft and lingering, and she tightens her grip on him, one hand sinking into his hair. The sensation trickles down his spine and he spins her around, lowering her into a gentle dip as the music plays on under the stars and sky.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, an AU of an AU... bit self-indulgent but whatever okay. It's kind of my little nod to the New 52 hopes and dreams.


End file.
